La Viuda Roja
by Orin Hasting
Summary: The chronicles of Clayr Orassys, Cretan mercenary. Wandering the stars in search of a purpose, or just avoidance of boredom? -sexual themes-
1. Preserving the Light

(Author's Note: This was originally formatted to be color coded according to who was speaking. A sort of artistic, no clutter prologue. Hopefully it will work without.)

***Contact.***

***Being of the largest planet.***

***Yes.***

***Action?***

***Leave the human.***

***No.***

***Explain.***

***Being's light darkening.***

***Concern?***

***No… Yes.***

***Concern for human is irrational.***

***Am I irrational?***

***You have concern for human. No concern for the family.***

***Human deserve light?***

***No.***

***Why?***

***Humans are irrational.***

***I am irrational. Am I human?***

***No. Return home now.***

***Human's light is gone.***

***Return.***

***Human is… dead.***

***Yes. Return now.***

***Human's light. Save.***

***No. Obey superior. Return.***

***We can save human. I can save human.***

***Do not be irrational.***

***I am irrational. Cling to human to preserve light.***

***Harmful pollutants. Damage. Irrational.***

***I am irrational.***

…

***…Light…Restored…Human…Lives…***

***Your light is darkening.***

***…Yes…***

***Your light is darkening. You will die.***

***…Human…Lives…***

***Human craft are coming. Two. You die for human light. You are irrational. Retreating.***

***…Goodbye…R'Qar-Lom…***

***Goodbye Tri'Vor-Lom.***

---

"Orassys. Do you copy? Over."

"…"

"Repeat. Orassys, are you alright?"

"…"

"Damn it… We're too late. She's gone."

"…Pain…Confusion…"

"What? That came from her signal… I'm not reading any life signs."

"…Who…Am I…?"

"What?"

"…Where am I? Who am I? …What am I?"

"This is the Crete control. Is the new one still alive?"

"I-I think…Yes. She's alive."

"Thank the lord. Do you require assistance?

"Negative. We've got her. See you soon.

"Acknowledged."

"I am home?"

"Not yet, sweetheart. We'll get you there soon."

"Gratitude… I mean, thank you."

"No problem, Orassys. We're glad you made it."

"My light… is strong."

"What's that?"

"N-Nothing… I don't know."

"We'll get a doctor to check you out back on Crete."

"Initiating tractor lock now."


	2. Cat and Mouse

[center][b]Cat and Mouse, Chapter One[/b][/center]

"Damn it!" Came the heavily accented voice of Fernando Juarez as a salvo of laser-fire streaked across his portside.

The Outcast pilot was in a dogfight. He was losing.

He pulled his damaged vessel into a tight turn skyward, trying to fight through the atmosphere above and put further distance between him and his oppressor. Another flurry of glistening bolts shot past him, and he was forced to alter course again to evade.

"C'mon now friend," His words came out through clenched teeth, trying desperately not to break his concentration. "Whatever they're paying you! I can double it!"

The laser-fire didn't waver for a moment.

"Hee-hee, sorry mister. 'Fraid you haven't had Ace status for [i]that[/i] long." A pleasant young voice came over his comms system. "No way in hell you've got the scratch to double this bounty."

The youthful feminine voice might have been refreshing or soothing on most occasions. Unfortunately, this wasn't of them. It scared the hell out of Juarez even more. He cursed under his breath and flipped the comms switch off. There was only one way he could get out of this one, he decided inwardly. It was kill, or be killed.

Commander Fernando "The Jet" Juarez was the Outcast's newest rising star. Quickly ascending through the ranks, his bona fide Ace status was not a misplaced appointment. And the lawful forces of Liberty could only agree to that truth. Within five months, Juarez newest assault squadron had reduced four naval bombers, sixteen fighters, two cruisers, and a gunboat to scrap metal, losing only four of their own in the duration. Not to mention the countless corporate shipping convoys caught in the Outcast militia's carnage. Unbeknownst to Juarez, the latter victims would prove to be his undoing.

Mercenary Clayr Orassys received a call from Universal shipping about a bounty offer just days before catching wind of the decorated Ace's secretive vacation on Curacao. Dastardly pirate commanders needed a break now and then too, it appeared. A few days of monitoring his activities later, and Clayr made the jump on him in his apartment, posing as a housekeeper to let herself into his room. Mr. Juarez wasn't easily fooled; unfortunately; and was an inherently paranoid fellow. Comes with the profession; Clayr thought; when your business involves blowing military hardware to dust. She could relate.

Back on point: upon realization of his disconcerting situation, Fernando made a hasty escape to his inconspicuous civilian vessel; a lightly modified Falcon heavy fighter; with Miss Orassys in hot pursuit. The Falcon was most definitely not the Ace's weapon of choice, and a far cry from the heavily outfitted Sabre he had piloted for the past four years. The weaker hull, drastically inferior weapon mounts, and extremely dissimilar turning radius made the change of helm a serious impediment to Juarez' ability to defend himself. A fact Clayr anticipated, and was counting on.

The young mercenary shifted in her seat, readjusting the skirt of the slightly large-fitting maid's uniform she commandeered from an unfortunate housekeeper. It was cute, she mused idly as she continued raining down fire on her sputtering and faltering prey ahead. Maybe a new look? Her mind drifted over to the subject of how much she enjoyed the past few days on the luxurious planet, then to how the auxiliary thruster was acting a little more power hungry than usual, before she finally focused back on the matter at hand. The bounty.

"Aw, c'mon 'Jet'. I thought you were [i]really something[/i]." Clayr chided playfully over the comms. "Tell ya' what, just stay still. I'll make it nice and quick. Whadd'ya say?"

Fernando shook his head in dismay as he continued his desperate attempt of avoiding the laser bolts, burning themselves through the thin layers of oxygen as they hurtled towards the fighter.

"[i]Now or never…[/i]" He agreed with a mix of determination and hopeless resolve. "Alright, here we go!"

Clayr perked her eyebrows up in slight surprise as the injured craft pulled into a reckless u-turn towards her direction. "Amateur…" She gripped an out-of-the-way trigger stick with her left hand and; with a final condescending remark over the comms; pointed the nozzle of the deadly weapon towards the half-turned Falcon, pulling the trigger with a delicate flick.

"S***!" The ace cursed as he picked up the burning lance of pure energy on his scanners.

Against the forces of nature that bound him within the planet's gravity well, he jerked the Falcon into a desperate arc to the left as he tried to continue his reversal. The distressed vessel whined and moaned as the ripping torrents of air around it fought against the heavy pinions, but it held together through the maneuver. Regrettably, the final attempt at a parry wasn't quite enough. The blistering vein of crimson force met his starboard wing, rending the once majestic looking talon asunder from the devastated heavy fighter.

"Nng!" He grunted as the force of the blast sent the Falcon into a deadly tumble down to the planet's surface.

Fighting the g-forces pressing him against the walls of the cockpit, Juarez frantically appealed to the engines for the thrust power to pull him out of his freefall. His stomach dropped further than it already was physically as he quickly verified that the propulsion systems were fried from the blast that he surmised came from a Mini Razor tachyon cannon.

"Y-you got me!" He struggled to choke out as he continued his wild descent. "I s-surrender! Get a damn tractor on me so I can get out of this freefall!"

Clayr returned his plea with a mockingly sympathetic pout over the visual comm systems. "Sorry mister, the bounty didn't say they needed you alive."

Fernando's eyes flashed open in shock. This girl was ruthless, and her lack of compassion was going to cost more than she might have realized. "Are you k-kidding me?" He almost screamed. "What if I crash into a resort area? Innocent people are going to die if you let my ship hit ground!"

She gave him look so cold that a chill actually ran down his spine. "You didn't think about that when you destroyed those passenger transports in Magellan. Did you?" Clayr called the bluff of his last ditch effort for survival with a deadly resolution.

The Outcast couldn't refute her reasoning, his concern for innocent life wasn't high, but the point was still horribly valid. "I-I… Of course, you've got me there! But you'll take that risk? The resort continent isn't far below us! They could die, you'll let that happen?" His words came in stammers as he fought for his safety with his last functioning weapon: his mouth. And it seemed to be on the fritz as well.

The young mercenary shrugged. "Not my problem. It'll only hurt for second, Juarez. Bye-e-e!" With that, Clayr punched out a snapshot on her onboard gun camera. It would prove to Universal that the bounty was finished, and would make a nifty addition to her scrapbook, she thought.

Normally unseen in the airless vacuum of space, brilliant tongues of fire made a looming arc down to the blue planet below, burning and igniting the rich oxygen of planet Curacao as they descended.

A bright speck of light flashed far below and disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. "Mission accomplished." Clayr smirked as she deviated course to head towards the resort platform in the distance.

"[i]Hope they didn't sustain too much damage from the falling Falcon…[/i]" She thought to herself innocently. "[i]Wouldn't want to have cut my vacation short![/i]"


	3. The Spider's Web

[b][center]The Spider's Web, Chapter Two[/center][/b]

A light scuttle of boots against metal sounded through Trenton's docking area as a small dark figure dropped down from a foreign looking fighter. The unknown human turned around, walking backwards casually as it caressed a long section of the vessel.

"Such a pretty ship, aren't ya'?" Clayr cooed, giving it a last pat before turning away.

The X8S "Stinger" Civilian Very Heavy Fighter hovered menacingly in the hangar bay, soaking in its owner's unheard praises with a slight lingering metallic hiss of the cooling engine. A funny story, how a Cretan found herself flying a GMG/IMG manufactured craft. It had been almost a year before…

---

"So, thinking of joining the Farmer's Alliance? Are you, miss?" A strapping young Kusarian man asked, clearly mustering up his deepest; but not dramatically so; voice for the young woman across the table.

The girl bit her lip, bashfully gazing down, and occasionally throwing a flirty glance up at the man. "Well… I uh, maybe. I really can't stand that Synth paste! How about you?"

He smirked, keeping up his handsome facade. "Sure can't! Wouldn't want the good workers of Kusari losing their jobs and homes either, would we now?"

She finally looked up, giving him a lazy stare with her smoldering blood-red eyes, "Course not." Clayr agreed, giving him a wink.

A wave of pigment washed across his light skinned cheeks, "Well, uh. You're not from around here are you? What was your name, again?" He finished; suddenly adopting a serious stance in the conversation; hoping the cute young gaijin didn't catch his goofy blush.

Clayr restrained herself from rolling her eyes. What a tool. "The name's Regina Rellik, and no, I'm from Bretonia originally. I just moved to Kusari last year and I heard about your guy's cause. It's so cool!" The lying scoundrel added in giggles and nervous word whiskers as she blatantly played the poor Farmer. Like a fiddle.

"Well; just so you know; we of the Farmer's Alliance don't usually accept outsiders into our movement…" He trailed off slightly as she gave him a minor pout. "But… I suppose I could talk to my superiors. I'll see what I can do."

The mercenary's face brightened and she threw her arms over the small bar table and around the man's neck, "Oh, thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!" The plan was progressing quite smoothly, "So do you fly a spaceship? Mister…?"

"Mister Sakamoto." He finished coolly. "But you can call me "Dodger", sweetheart. And yes, I fly a craft called a Stinger. It's a heavily armored assault fighter used by many elite Farmer's Alliance pilots."

"[i]Dodger…[/i]" Clayr thought inwardly, stifling a pitying laugh, "Really? Can I see it?" She implored earnestly, sounding a bit like a little girl in the process. Almost there.

"Heh, sure you can. You want to now?"

She gave one last open-mouthed grin for good measure, "Yeah! Let's go!" Taking his hand she pulled him up from his seat.

---

One set of light, and another of heavy footsteps sounded across Kagoshima Depot's landing deck.

"Where is it?" Clayr asked excitedly.

"Right over here, Regina." Mister Sakamoto took her hand, leading her over to another area of the bay, and probably feeling like the hottest thing in Kusari.

His supposed young admirer followed him devotedly as they made their way across the solid metal floor.

The Stinger hung in mid-air, held fast by a silent; but powerful; grav-field, looking impressive. Sleek weaponry littered the viciously designed fighter, most likely given some clich? titles of wild animals or fowl.

"Wow! It's so… spiky!" Clayr praised, sounding as ignorant as she could. It was actually quite a nice looking ship, she decided.

Dodger scoffed slightly, "Well, if "spiky-ness" mattered in combat, I suppose the Stinger would be a very fierce competitor. Of course, it is quite a capable ship." He informed professionally. "It's not quite unlike the Eagle in fligh-"

"Oh yeah! I know Eagles; I fly one!" She cut in, getting very sick of the incessant jabbering. Just a little more… and she wouldn't have to put up with the pilot. Ever again.

He seemed to flinch slightly as she pointed excitedly over at an Eagle across the docking bay. "A-An Eagle? You fly that?"

Clayr slugged him in the shoulder playfully. "Course I do, silly! How do you think I got out here?"

His brow furled a little more, "Oh, uh, sure. Didn't realize you were a pilot, I guess." He stammered, most likely feeling the loss of his superior experience.

"Your ship is [i]much[/i] cooler, though. Can we go inside? I want to get a good look." She asked, hopping up onto one of the outcropping winglets.

"I, uh… [i]we[/i]?" He questioned nervously. "Dodger" was losing his touch. "It's a one man fighter. There isn't a whole lot of room in the cockpit."

Clayr leaned her head down towards his, [i]unknowingly[/i] putting a little skin into his immediate view, "You afraid of cooties, Dodger?" The crafty merc spun the final thread of her web with another provocative wink.

A thick bead of sweat made its way down the poor fool's forehead, "Ha- uh, no I- uh… I mean, [i]no[/i]! Of course not, Miss." Mister Sakamoto stuttered pathetically at the unassuming young woman's sudden brazenness. "If you'll- uh, just follow me."

He jumped up awkwardly to the cockpit and; after clumsily performing a brief arm-windmill to regain his balance; reached down towards Clayr's small outstretched hand. After assuring that she was safely skirting the entrance to the cockpit, he popped the hatch and let himself inside. "Hey, ah… come on in!"

Without a second thought, the girl hopped in after and landed herself square on his lap, "Ooh!" She giggled. "Hi there."

"Hi there." He repeated, utterly dumbfounded.

Clayr bit her lip enticingly and leaned forward towards him, dark hair falling slightly over her almost glowing eyes. She had him completely in her spell. "It's kinda' tight in here, ain't it?" She slowly raised her left arm and let it rest next to his head, and against the back of the cockpit.

*Kchh-Shnnnkk*

She hit the cockpit's closure command and leaned in further, her lips creeping their way closer and closer to their quivering counterparts.

"Y-Yeah…" He breathed, not knowing what else to do.

The dark brilliance of Clayr's pupils faded as she closed them slowly, pressing her lips against his and bringing her free hand around to cradle the back of his head.

"Mmm…" She prolonged the lip-lock for a few more moments as she reached behind her back, revealing a slick silver blaster from a concealed band around her thigh. Leisurely, she backed her torso away from the completely entranced male, "Hey… you alright?" She smirked vaguely, still bringing up the weapon from her side.

Sakamoto's eyes were still closed dumbly, and his lips longing uselessly for the retreating recipient. "Hmm, yeah…"

"Good." Clayr stated; suddenly, and with a deadly serious tone.

With blur of metallic silver, Sakamoto's head snapped back violently, colliding with the hard metal back of the Stinger's cockpit with brutal force, "Nng!" He managed a pained grunt as he raised his arms drunkenly, and in extremely shallow consciousness. His eyes drifted open against the encroaching cloud of darkness tearing them down and met the shimmering nozzle of Clayr's sidearm. "Wha…?"

"Aw, don't get up… [i]Dodger[/i]." She enunciated her prey's arrogant nickname with an obvious amount of disdain and sarcasm. With another whip of the compact and solid weapon, the man's body slumped down in the lightly padded seat.

Orassys opened the cockpit's canopy immediately and surveyed the area around her, making sure no one was within range to have heard the scuffle, and to see anything more. "Good, we're alone." She said to herself, dropping back down into the cockpit to lug out the heavy unconscious male out of the cramped compartment and into her own ship's cargo hold. Getting a grip around the top of his arms, she flexed her back muscles and lifted him up with all her strength-

"Hey, who's that over there?" A deep voice called out across the hangar bay suddenly.

"****!" The mercenary swore quietly as she dropped back down into the cockpit, and atop Sakamoto. "Looks like my performance ain't over yet…" She quickly shook her head in irritation.

Doing her best to act the part, she hurriedly tugged one of her top's straps down over her shoulder and; putting her hands to her hair; shook quickly and vigorously to mess it up as best she could. Silently crossing her fingers, she poked her head out the opening of the Stinger and put on her best look of shock and embarrassment.

The stranger's eyes perked up as he realized what he stumbled into; or at least what Clayr [i]wanted[/i] him to think he stumbled into, "Whoa! Hey- sorry! Eh, uh, little busy in there aren't ya'?" He started rambling nervously, and didn't quite stop, "Haha! Uh, I'll leave you to uh- whatever you're doing!" The blushing man quickly pivoted around on his heel and started away, then promptly spun back towards Clayr with a sly grin. "Hey- uh, who's that in there, aye? That you, Sakamoto? Who's the lady friend?"

"I- uh…" Clayr sputtered. This suddenly wasn't going so well.

The interrupter's brow creased slightly and he arched his neck back in a futile attempt to get a better view of the scene, "Hey, why ain't he answering?" He questioned suspiciously before starting his way over to the fighter.

"[i]So much for privacy![/i]" Clayr frowned in thought, "[i]Time for plan b.[/i]" Punching in the command again to close the canopy, she spun around to face the controls, sitting on the cataleptic former pilot's lap.

The confused interloper faltered forward a few steps in surprise, "H-Hey! What the hell?" He bit out, not quite sure of what was going on.

The mercenary took in the unknown fighter's control panel as best she could, and then hastily entered the ignition phase.

"Access denied." A monotone voice sounded from the controls in front of her.

"Great…" She lamented, bringing a hand to her forehead in frustration, "Any help mister?" Spinning herself around again, she started patting down her quarry for the necessary access codes. "Bingo." Clayr sighed in relief as she snagged a key-card out of his coat pocket.

"Ahh- erm…" The man outside looked around frantically, at a loss of what to do, "Hey! Anyone here? We've got a situation!" Finally getting his head into the game, he bolted over to an alarm panel and yanked a lever down.

"Wonderful." Clayr exhaled as warning sirens began blaring through the station. "Time to put this bird in the air."

With a piercing whir from the Stinger's quad rear engine ports, the craft rose up and out of the grav-field's grasp. The docking bay shutters, of course, remained firmly closed for the commandeered vessel. Flicking the weapons controls online, Clayr skimmed over the technical readouts.

"Vultures, hmm? Let's see what kind of carnage you puppies can dish out." With a smirk, she arched the weapons towards the docking shutters. "Hold your breath, stranger."

With a deafening wave of heat and energy, the lightly defended inner walls of the closers tore apart like tinfoil sheets against the white-hot neutron bolts. "Wha-!" The unlucky fellow still lingering helplessly in the landing area realized the gravity of his predicament too late.

The docking shields, normally active upon takeoff situations, were unprepared by human hands to seal off the suddenly vacuum filling bay area. With a quick buzz of electromagnetic energy, they were back up, sealing the quickly air-depleted compartment. Too late. A blur of motion shot across the landing deck and towards space with instantaneous force. A body. The reappearing shielding saved his flight to open space, but not his life.

Glancing at a rearview monitor, Clayr scoffed mildly as the shielding flashed wildly and a bloody haze drifted up from behind it. "Shouldn't have been so nosy."

Azure scenery washed over Clayr's vision as she thrusted out into the open space of Kyushu. The transparent peace was shattered immediately as two Griffin light fighters closed in around the Stinger in a classic blockade formation.

"You will return to Kagoshima, gaijin. Failure to cooperate will result in immediate neutralization." A serious voice stated coldly over the comm systems.

Clayr flipped her own systems online and gave the pilots a cute smile, "Aw, already? Me and my friend are just taking a lil' spin." She pulled the unconscious Sakamoto into the visual comms viewfinder like they were good chums.

The speaking officer's composure seemed to crack at the sight, "C-Commander! You will dock with Kagoshima. [i]Now[/i], thief!" He glared at the young girl.

"Ooh, is that an order? I like men that take charge." Clayr giggled back to the pilot, "But I'm afraid I can't comply." Her disposition abruptly transformed into a deadly surety.

"Then you will die for your crimes."

She feigned a slight pitying smile. "Then Sakamoto will die with me, Farmer."

With a shadowy flicker of motion, the stolen Stinger blasted away from the would-be defenders at a surprising angle.

The Farmer's Alliance pilot hit a switch on his panel, "Damn it! Take her out now!" He bit out to his wingman, throwing his throttle forward in pursuit.

The vacuum of space shuddered as Clayr's Stinger made its violent lurch for freedom. "She's rabbiting, sir! Firing cruise disruptor!" The other pilot stated as he launched the high velocity projectile.

"So predictable…" The mercenary mused quietly.

A sputter of dead engines gave the heavy fighter's cockpit an eerie silence as the craft continued its drift forward. The nose of the vessel made a quick 180 back towards the pursuing Griffins.

"Ah! Watch out!" The senior pilot exclaimed as the Stinger's weapons systems adjusted onto his fellow officer.

Glistening streaks of crimson energy beamed forth from the Vultures mounted to the attacking fighter. The lightly armored light fighter never stood a chance and; with a shining burst of onboard combustibles; exploded helplessly under the powerful onslaught.

The remaining pilot grunted at the force of the nearby detonation and fought his way through the newly formed cloud of burning debris, shield flickering as bits and pieces of scrap glanced across the fragile bubble of power enveloping him. "Not bad, missy." He muttered to himself, "You're not getting away that easily."

Feminine hands drifted casually over the foreign controls of the stolen hardware, "Aha, what have we here?" Clayr thought aloud as she fingered a torpedo fire control device.

The final lingering wisps of flame and debris filtered out of the pilot's tainted vision a moment too late, "What? N-" A withering flash of destruction took the place of the last Griffin, leaving the female and her quarry alone.

"Well, that was a little too easy." She rolled her eyes playfully as she deactivated the torpedo systems, "Nice ship you got here, mista'." Giving the man below her a light pat on the cheek, she made an about face towards the nearest tradelane. "Time to blow this joint before any of your friends decide to join the party. Next stop: Deshima."

---

The nineteen year old shook her head, suppressing a chuckle as she thought back to the memory. It all seemed so long ago. Leaving her Eagle behind was an irritation at first, but the Stinger proved to be a very capable substitute over the past year. So much so that she forgot all about finding a replacement of her former helm.

Stepping up to a professional looking office door of Universal's bounty office, she fingered a small data-card containing her gun camera snapshots. "[i]I believe it's time to collect my bounty.[/i]"


End file.
